Truth and Dare
by kyrilu
Summary: There is a game on Gallifrey not quite unlike the human Truth or Dare. Of course, it really isn't a game for children - it's something akin to gambling. Eleventh Doctor/the Master.


Title: Truth and Dare

Author: Endless-chan/kyrilu

Fandom: Doctor Who

Rating: K+/PG

Warnings: Mentions of Gallifrey's destruction, but nothing graphic - just canon-level type of thing.

Genre: Angst/Romance.

Pairing/Characters: The Eleventh Doctor/the Master (Other). Some other characters in the background.

Author's Notes: In the vein of my previous fic 'Playing for Keeps', in that both share the theme of a game. It's stand-alone, though.

* * *

There is a game on Gallifrey not quite unlike the human _Truth or Dare._ Of course, it really isn't a game for children - it's something akin to gambling.

The Noble Houses play it the most. They say: _Knowledge or Action._ They say: _Here's an event. Tell me about it. Tell me about how it matters to who you are and how this event might/can/will/already has affected you._ Or: _Here's an event. What would you change to keep (or to divert or to improve or to lessen) the result?_ The stakes are high - for sometimes, these prophecies are taken into consideration in the Council's meetings. Sometimes, paradoxes are made and unmade.

The Doctor has never played this game before.

* * *

But Theta has.

He sits with Koschei and they lean against each other and whisper _I propose to you to reverse the creation of the universe_ and when the sounds of an answer falls from one pair of lips, it feels like a supernova is exploding on every fingertip.

"A daring play," Theta says, after Koschei says _I propose to you that Koschei has never met Theta Sigma._

"It is, isn't it?" Koschei chuckles.

"I answer: the stars will align and Gallifrey will orbit backwards and the grass will turn green until the universe finally realises that yes, Koschei _will_meet Theta Sigma."

They grin at each other, and burst into laughter.

* * *

The Doctor learns the human version many many many years later. "Truth or Dare," he repeats doubtfully after Amy finishes reciting the rules back at him. "Didn't know there was a human version of this." (He'd only heard of Shag, Murder, Marry from Rose. Jack had a blast with that silly game.)

"So," Amy says, flexing her fingers together. "Wanna have a round?"

"Just the two of us?"

Amy turns around and shouts, "Oi! Rory! C'mere, we're going to play a game now, you're missing out!"

The Doctor settles down on the floor next to her, resigned. He waits for Rory to join them; he waits for the game to start.

* * *

Here is another game.

**Truth:** How are you alive again?  
**Answer:** Well, I broke out of the Time War, what do you expect?

**Truth:** Please come with me. It's better this way, don't you think?  
**Answer:** No. Stop whining.

**Truth:** Nice to see you again. Though apparently, you still have rubbish stubble again. Why don't you shave?  
**Answer:** No. Stop whining.

**Truth:** So...you want to team up? We've got to protect ourselves now, you know, and well, seeing as we're outnumbered by these fish thingys-  
**Answer:** Don't finish that sentence. Look - hand. Laser screwdriver. Time Lord. I can protect myself very well, thanks. (And even if that entails not exactly hurting you, and you're also kind of in that hand sonic-screwdriver Time Lord situation yourself, and we're not fighting each other right now - that is still not _teaming up._)

And now...well. They stand together, almost red grass rippling under the feet - _this is the closest I could find to your father's fields, you know: mahogany brownish_ - and isn't it ironic, they're on Earth. 'Cos it's really the effect of herbicide on plants tainting it that colour and maybe the Master really doesn't mind.

"So why are we here?" the Master says. The words are careful. Like he's deciding whether he wants to be angry or amused or nostalgic.

The Doctor catches the Master's shoulder with a gentle hand. "Knowledge or Action," he recites in lilting Gallifreyan. His fingers loop circles on the other Timelord's skin, spelling the words out with each curve and spiral.

"Action."

The Doctor halts his touch, a mite surprised. "I propose to you," he starts, "the stars in every constellation, the planets that we touch through the Vortex, Time that we shape with our own hands-"

And Rassilon, the Master's eyes widen (blue, they're blue this time round) because those are the first words of a Gallifreyan binding ceremony. The closest thing to a human marriage, one could say, but this is more deeper. More permanent.

"I answer and I give you," the Master murmurs, says the only thing that could be said, "the red grass in every field, the Space that stretches through the universe, and Time, which is in itself a timeless dance."

And it's a strange mockery of that one Christmas, foreheads pressed against each other and their minds are dancing and whispering and leaving imprints behind.

"A daring play," the Master breathes as the Doctor pulls back, his head spinning rotating revolving.

There will always be a piece of the Master inside the Doctor and a piece of the Doctor inside the Master. Which is ridiculous, because hasn't it always been like that?

* * *

**Dare:** I dare you to tell the truth. (Gallifrey. Gallifrey. How did it burn? _Show me._)

**Dare:** I dare you to take over the universe for me if I die.

The Master is the one who dares most of the time. And the Doctor - the coward hero man he is - always leaves them unanswered.

* * *

And maybe, just maybe, that's okay.

There's more truths and more dares to be offered, many more and much more, and it's alright to lay all your cards out on the table without countering them.

In the end, they'll stop running, and sit down on a bed of grass, and remember.

They will sift through all the truths and dares of endless lifetimes, and the first card drawn will be the first card dealt. Starting with:

_I propose to you to reverse the creation of the universe._


End file.
